This story was written for the Second Round of the Finals of the Fourth Season of the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition. I'm writing as Beater 1 for The Wimbourne Wasps.

Name of round: Weasley's Wizard Wheezes

We'd like to thank Gred and Forge of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes for sponsoring this round of the Quidditch League. In order to help them boost sales amongst the crowds here, we'd like you - the players - to endorse some of their products. Remember you're trying to entice people to buy, so make sure you make lasting impressions on people! (AKA - make sure your products are used in and are important to your stories.)

I got a product that's perfect for mischief and distractions: Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder

These were the prompts I'm using to block our opponents, the Montrose Magpies:

1. (dialogue) "Stop fidgeting so much!"
14. (restriction) No Gryffindor or Slytherin characters

Disclaimer: I don't own any part of the world J.K. Rowling has created; it's all hers, from Diagon Alley to Hogwarts to all the people living there.

I can't thank you enough for betaing Xanda, and Sophie! Aren't you growing tired of me yet? If that was the case, you shouldn't have done a good job helping me and increasing our chances to advance in the competition xD Buzz, buzz! Also, a special shout-out to a couple of last minute beta-experts: Shane, Loki, thank you so much!

PS. Word-count provided by MS Word—

Investigative Journalism
Words: 2 974

"That will be sixty-two Galleons and eleven Sickles, sir."

Justin gave a start, stopping Ernie from paying. "What?" he said. "That can't be right! That should only cover the three unicorn horns, never mind the phoenix tears or the dragon scales."

The apothecarian gave a smile. "You haven't been in here for some time, have you? A few months back, I was offered a very good deal with a new provider. They offered me a marvellous discount, provided that I only get my stock from them. It means that I can now provide quality potion ingredients to my customers at a price no one in England can match."

"I won't argue with that," said Ernie, shaking loose Justin's hand and passing over the payment before grabbing his purchases. "Come on, Justin. I want to be done before it gets dark."

While Ernie walked to the door, Justin lingered behind for a moment, looking at the proprietor. He smiled politely for a short moment, then grew tense under Justin's scrutiny and started to fidget. After another moment of eye contact, he looked away.

"Don't you think what just happened was strange?" Justin asked Ernie once they joined the crowd milling in Diagon Alley.

"I got a good deal, and the man had a good explanation for it. I don't see what more there is to it."

Justin grabbed Ernie's arm and dragged him to the side, wanting to talk without people jostling them or glaring at them for blocking the street.

"You didn't notice he didn't make eye contact? He's guilty of something. I know it. People with nothing to hide don't act like that."

"He was probably shy. No one likes to maintain eye contact for long."

"You know that's not it. If you can't see that something's wrong, it's because you don't want to see it. Prices don't drop like that. Unicorns are too rare for that to be possible, and the laws set to protect them are strict. It's not as if anyone can waltz into a unicorn sanctuary and grab a shipment's worth of horns. The same could be said about both dragons and phoenixes. The market doesn't drive the prices; it's all regulated to keep the populations steady and safe. A supplier couldn't go that low, not even to entice a new business partner."

"I thought you were already working on investigating embezzlement in the Department of Magical Games and Sports? You're not supposed to be snooping for a new story."

"Jenkins is mainly responsible for looking into that, and I can't really help it if a good story falls into my lap."

Ernie sighed. "If you wanted justice, you should have become an Auror, not a journalist."

"You know why I decided on this job. I don't want to blindly follow what other people say, the way I did in school. I want to think critically and decide for myself, and I want to help other people do the same. Now, do you agree that something's wrong or not?"

Ernie let out an even deeper sigh, one that had a ring of resignation to it. "You're like a Niffler with a golden nugget, never willing to let go, but yes, you're probably right. The price was too good to be true. What will you do next?"

=o=

"Are you working on a new side project?" asked Felicity Jenkins, an American witch, plopping her bony behind down on Justin's desk. She was whip-thin with a mane of tomato-red hair cascading down her back, and she was always chewing Drooble's Best Blowing Gum, adding a fixture of bubbles floating around her head. Justin had thought her a bit too eccentric for his tastes at first. While he hadn't grown up to become a business tycoon like his father, he had been raised with rather conservative views that lingered like spectres. Still, she was also the only other person working at the Daily Prophet who had any idea what investigative journalism, as done by the Muggles, was; it had quickly elevated her to the position of his favourite co-worker.

"Yes," Justin answered, never taking his eyes from the taxation records he'd picked up from the Ministry earlier that day. He only lazily lifted one hand to push away a bright blue gum-bubble before it could land on his documents and make them sticky.

"If it's bigger than some washed-up jocks putting money into their own pockets, I could help you out."

"I'll let you know once I know."

The records were from St Mungo's. After the war, there had been a reorganisation in the Ministry, making the hospital a subsidiary branch of the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, which had led to a substantial part of the hospital's administrative paperwork becoming public documents. He couldn't see exactly what the different hospital wards had bought, but he could follow their expenses through the rate of the taxes they'd paid. The amount had dropped considerably a couple of months back, even though it had been consistent for years. That discount must be quite widespread to have such an impact. Still, it wasn't enough to start the printing presses. Not yet.

=o=

The Apothecary was empty of customers when Justin walked in; that forced a confrontation.

"Hello again! What can I help you with?" The apothecarian didn't seem particularly happy to see Justin. His greeting was somewhat stiff, but it was followed by a smile, a mask of politeness slipping into place. Justin was pleased; he knew that the man was uncomfortable. Coming here would be worthwhile. He, too, could play a game, however. He put on his largest smile.

"I was actually going to inquire if you would concede to an interview. I'm a reporter for the Daily Prophet, and I'm interested in learning more about how you're able to offer such low prices to your customers."

The man's smile became strained. "I don't think-"

"But please do! Think of the publicity this could give you. Having the Daily Prophet write about your store would certainly bring an influx of customers. How could you possibly turn down an opportunity like this?"

"I- well. When would this interview take place?"

"If you have time, now would be good. We can take a break should anyone come in."

"All right. T-that should be fine."

"Brilliant."

The interview was on. Names were exchanged. Some small pleasantries followed. Justin had his notepad and his self-inking quill. He asked a few inane questions, questions he couldn't care less about. Age? Fifty-seven. Hogwarts House? Ravenclaw. Why did you become the proprietor of an apothecary? Interested in potions, but not a good enough grade to pursue it as a career. And then…

"Last time I was here, you told me and my friend that you had made a deal with a new provider. What can you tell me about them?"

"Is this really...? Well, they're called Landshut Logistics. They're based in Germany."

"Do they specialize in any specific type of ingredients?"

"They do sell me everything I have, but yes, they do specialize in ingredients from a few creatures. That's where the largest discounts have been made available."

"Do you have any examples?"

"Well, you do know about the unicorn horns. I used to sell them for twenty-one Galleons a piece; now the price has dropped to fourteen."

"Do you know how they are able to keep the prices so low?"

"I haven't asked."

"You're not concerned that something may be wrong if they're the only ones willing to sell at that price?"

"I've not thought about it, no. I- Maybe it has to do with them being German."

"The Forbidden Forest at Hogwarts has one of the largest herds of unicorns in all of Europe."

"There are Unicorns in Germany too."

"I'm certain there are, but if that's the whole explanation, why has it not affected the market price earlier?"

The apothecarian was failing to make eye contact again. His face was changing colour, greying, and growing shiny from perspiration. "I don't-" he said. "I just remembered. I have a shipment coming in tomorrow that I have to prepare for now, and I don't actually have the time to speak more. Do you have enough for your article?"

"Yes. I think I do. Thank you for your time."

=o=

"Were you at the Ministry again?" Felicity asked. Today, the bubbles around her head were orange. It made it seem as if her hair was growing strange bulges.

"Yes," Justin answered. "Look at this." He handed over a sheet of parchment.

"It's a list of foreign companies that have the right to trade in England," she said after scanning the text.

"Bull's eye."

"So, why do you look like someone killed your Crup?"

"Landshut Logistics is listed under clothes articles, not magical ingredients. They're the people who've been supplying the Apothecary in Diagon Alley."

"Black market?"

"It does seem that way."

=o=

"Good! You're home!"

"It's the middle of the night. Where else would I be?" Justin grumbled at Ernie, whose head was his fireplace, flames distorting his countenance. Justin yawned, stretched, and tugged his dressing gown back into place.

Ernie, on the other hand, was wide awake and almost manic. "You're still looking into the cheap prices at the Apothecary, aren't you?" He said it so quickly that the words almost blurred together.

Justin nodded. His fingers found the tie to his robes. It was a bit frayed on the edge. He should have it mended, or maybe, he should buy a new dressing gown altogether.

"Stop fidgeting so much! You have to wake up and listen! I didn't Floo at this hour for fun. I was working with one of the horns I bought just before. It was contaminated."

"What?" Justin said, lowering his hands, feeling wide awake now. "Contaminated with what?"

"A dark powder. I blew it off the horn, and although there can't have been much of it, all my lights went out. Do you have any idea how irritating it was to wait for it to dissipate so that I could relight the fire and Floo you? I think it's Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder." When Justin made a face of incomprehension, Ernie elaborated. "It was used by the Death Eaters the night Dumbledore was killed, covering their escape."

"Why would that be on one of the unicorn horns?"

"I have an idea, and it's not anything good. You know how the cross section of a horn almost has a glow? This one is dull. If the powder weakens them, it might make harvesting the horns easier. Normally only maidens can do it. It's not right, though. I think the powder is hurting them."

"I suspect that the company bringing them in is part of the black market."

"This isn't good, Justin. We can't keep this to ourselves."

=o=

"Take it up to the Beast Division. Level Four. This isn't a matter for the Auror Office."

=o=

"You should talk with someone with the International Magical Trading Standards Body. We don't oversee the import of goods, nor do we have any authority over the handling of beasts outside our own borders."

=o=

"Black market, do you say? That is a crime, you should report to someone in Magical Law."

Justin was fit to burst. "I've already spoken with them, and with the Beast Office. No one wants to deal with this."

"Not my problem, lad. It should be the Aurors' job, though. Try again."

Felicity, who was flanking Justin, crushed one of her gum-bubbles, squished it together and placed it under a desk when no one was looking, a petty little revenge that made Justin's mouth twitch into a smile.

"You said that the proprietor interrupted the interview because of a shipment that would come in today?" she asked.

"Yes."

"How about we do some snooping?"

"We'll try the Aurors one more time first."

=o=

The reception of the Aurors had been a little bit better the second time. They'd been told to fill out a form and reassured that it would be looked at promptly. As a send-off, they got a pat on the shoulder each from a smiling lady. It didn't feel like enough, however, so they had proceeded to Diagon Alley, where they had found a conveniently placed window that they could pry open to push two strings of flesh coloured wire inside—Extendable Ears. Justin and Felicity listened to what was going on in the storage space at the Apothecary. There was a whole lot of nothing before they were rewarded for their patience.

Feet were moving on the floor. Heavy objects were being shifted.

"People have been asking questions, Carmichael." Justin recognized the proprietor's voice.

"What people?"

"A Daily Prophet reporter."

"You didn't say anything, did you?"

"I said my name, and my age, and the name of the company, and what you do."

"Are you stupid as well as ugly? Why did they come asking questions in the first place?"

"They thought the prices were strange."

"You changed the prices?"

"Of course, I did. It wouldn't be honest to overprice the wares so much."

A string of inelegant cursing followed. "Shift the prices back up to normal levels, you idiot. There was never anything honest about it. The whole point of this is to sell the goods at a store with a good reputation to keep the prices high and make a huge profit."

"How will I explain the increased price?"

"I don't know. Tell them we went bankrupt and that you had to return to your old supplier, but only say something if you're asked. There's no point in giving away free information. Fix this! I have to go do some actual work." Footsteps clued them in that 'Carmichael' was leaving.

"We must follow him," hissed Felicity, "see where he's going."

"If he Apparates, there's no way we'll be able to, and no, grabbing onto him isn't a good idea. We'll get splinched."

"Job hazard."

"Felicity!"

She was already up and moving. Justin followed, but the crowd in the Alley proper held him back, and he could only look on helplessly as his concerns became a reality. Felicity had grabbed onto a man as he was about to Disapparate. The two of them disappeared.

A moment later, Justin let out a gush of air. Felicity had popped back into view. She waved him over and then sent them both tumbling in another Apparition.

"What the-"

She hushed him harshly and forced him to duck down. "I hit him with a Confundus Charm and managed to looked around and get a clear picture before he could shake it off. Then I came back for you. Easy."

"You're crazy."

"You say the sweetest things."

They were in a forest. The trees were tall and let very little light down to the floor. It was cold, and an uncanny feeling was rising within Justin. In a clearing ahead of them, a few wizards had gathered, among them the man Felicity had hitched a ride from.

"Have you tracked the beasts?" Carmichael asked.

"Yeah. Five minutes' walk. I got the hands and the powder."

"Let's do it. St Mungo's wants more horns."

Justin and Felicity followed as silently as they could, and within the promised five minutes, luminescent, white shapes became visible between the trees. It was a huge herd of unicorns.

The wizards lit some candles that were set in something Justin couldn't see, and then he really couldn't see. Everything turned pitch black, the light of the unicorns going out. For a second, he panicked, thinking that he'd gone blind. Then it struck him. "The Darkness Powder," he whispered.

The next few minutes were some of the worst in Justin's life. The darkness incapacitated them, making them unable to do anything. They could only hear the distress of the unicorns as they were manhandled and mutilated, tortured on account of the profit their horns could give these wizards.

Then everything changed. One crack after another filled the air around them, and spells were flying everywhere, a few weak flashes joining shouted words and the whooshing sound of magic. It was near chaos. Justin had his own wand out, transfiguring a protective barrier around himself and Felicity.

Eventually, everything quieted down.

"Mr. Finch-Fletchley! Miss Jenkins!"

Justin recognized the voice; it belonged to the smiling Auror lady they'd spoken to before going to Diagon Alley.

They made themselves known and were escorted to a place the Darkness Powder hadn't reached. There, they were treated to an explanation for the Aurors' timely arrival.

"I suspected that this would happen."

"What?"

The Auror smiled at them, making her seem all motherly. "I didn't expect exactly this, but I knew that you were going to continue your investigation, and I wanted to keep an eye on you. I put tracking spells on each of you, and don't you get upset with me, Mr. Finch-Fletchley. I know the law and did not break it. Infringement of personal integrity is loosened once someone is involved in a case, and you most certainly are, even if you're on the side of the good guys. I read everything in the form you filled in and conducted a short investigation of my own. You've stumbled onto something big indeed. These people are looking forward to a quite extended stay in Azkaban to pay for what they've done. You'll get to write an article that'll sell many papers, though I'll have to insist that I get to veto what goes into it. This is far more serious than taxation records, and not everything belongs to the public."

Justin gave a tight nod. "We can work with that."

"I look forward to reading your article. Now, let's get you safely back to London. I'm sure you've seen enough adventure for one day."

The End

A/N 30th January 2017

I didn't want to write this round. I've no idea why. I feel like I've lost the spark. Still, it became a story. A story that probably would have been better if I'd been able to use more words. I tell you, writing stories that are no more than 3000 words is torture.